With or Without You: Justice, Race, and the Church.

I care about America because I’m an American.

I care about issues of racial inequality because I am black. 

I care about the plight of immigrants because I am the daughter of immigrants. 

I care about abortion because each human being is uniquely crafted in God’s image. 

I care about the poor because the Bible speaks overwhelmingly about meeting their needs and remembering them in times of prosperity. 

I care about (insert other justice issue here) because of some revelation from Christ that has lead me to believe that the issue is important….

There are justice issues that I care about because Christ compels me to care for them.  I never seriously considered them before Christ or before adulthood (i.e. the poor, abortion, human trafficking, etc) as they were not issues that directly impacted my life. On the flip side, there are justice issues that I care about because I was born into them: racial inequality and concerns of immigrant communities. The Lord did not reveal to me that racial inequalities and systemic injustices were issues that I should care about; life did. 

I find that the biggest chasms in thought between me and some of my Jesus loving Caucasian friends stem from this fundamental difference: My life experiences and the color of my skin compel me to care about issues of race. I’ve been inescapably drafted in. This is not so for my friends. Choice compels them. They must choose to care.

Choice compels them. They must choose to care.

I have struggled significantly when I encounter people I know personally who seem to be dismissive of real issues that impact communities I am part of. People who passionately seek out the heart of the Lord on other justice issues. People I prayed with, worshiped with — we gave our money, talked in disbelief about atrocities half way across the world. Yet, on the things that happen in our back yard –silence, denial and conspiracies of media bias. It’s hard to not feel abandoned by them. Partly because I very strongly believed that we were in “this” together.  Together in all of the justice issues that qualified as “this”. Specifically, the ones that directly impact me and the ones I love.

It has really forced me to think. Why is this issue so different for me than it is for them? I’ve asked around and had long and deep conversations with both white and black friends who differ in opinion on race, justice, and the church.  Some attributed the divide to white privilege, some thought black people were too sensitive, and others mentioned whatever argument you’ve heard on social media. There were lots of opinions and I heard them all, but none satisfied this lingering question and desire to understand why this was so fundamentally different.  I know they have the capacity to care because I’ve seen their passion in action. I know they have the capacity to hear from the Lord on issues of justice because I’ve seen their faith in action. I’ve spent time with these people. I’ve literally prayed with these people about everything. Why can we pray together on other things and not these things?

Then this came to me. It’s helped some in navigating through all the noise.

When it comes to the issue of race and racial inequalities, our prayers are different, both in timing and in content.

On timing —

I have prayed to Jesus about issues of race since I was a little girl, encountering racism from classmates, teachers and bus drivers, walking into stores, walking down the street, etc. I have vivid memories of listening to my family talk about difficult experiences. I can recall listening to my friends and seeing their hurt. I watched people disrespect my father because of his thick accent. I’ve witnessed the poor service my grandmother received because of her broken English. I have been praying about issues within black and immigrant communities before I knew to call them the issues of black and immigrant communities, all while simply praying for my family and friends. 

On the content of our prayers —

People outside of these communities pray for understanding. I pray to be understood. While we can agree to pray about how we can both be a part of the Lord’s solution, I pray for things like protection. I pray that the frequent misunderstanding of my culture and skin color don’t lead to personal harm or mistreatment on the street, in the justice system, in the workplace, at school and in the church at large. I pray that the negative racial experiences I’ve had throughout my life don’t taint me against the majority. I pray the same things for my family and my friends. I must.

People outside of these communities pray for understanding. I pray to be understood.

Isn’t that crazy? I never thought about that before tonight. We pray fundamentally DIFFERENT prayers when it comes to race because we’ve had fundamentally DIFFERENT experiences. They read about what I’ve lived out. They hear about it, but they have never lived it.  When we prayed about other issues of injustice, we prayed the same things because we were all on the outside looking in. Choosing to step into the fray. But, when the national conversation turned to racial inequalities and systematic injustices, all of a sudden I was — publicly — on the inside looking out. 

I can tell you that from this perspective, it’s hard. It’s hard when you feel like some of the people you assumed would be there in support are nowhere to be found, being dismissive, or outright combative. Why do you believe the testimony of the missionary you barely know from Asia? So much so that you financially invest in him… but you don’t believe me?  Why do you believe my pastor when he tells you we need to get actively involved in other justice issues around the world, but you don’t believe him when he talks about Americans who look like me? Why?  Why do you think you are SO right about MY experience, OUR experience? 

I wish I could express my disappointment. Right now, I lack the energy to try.  

The option of being a one issue candidate seems like a luxury. I mean that with all honesty. No really, how can I choose to be a one issue voter? How do I put away my blackness and minimize the roar of the immigrant blood that runs through these veins, just to focus solely on one issue of injustice. Maybe that makes me immature. Selfish, even. O.K. I’ll have to answer to Christ for that. Maybe one day we’ll grow closer to understanding each other on this issue. But that may never happen…

So, I’m not waiting for you anymore. I can’t afford to wait for you to decide that these things are important. You’re in or you’re out. And if you’re out, that’s ok. We can run together for babies in the womb, for the kids in Haiti, and the children of Africa. We can send our money to save the innocent people being trafficked across the globe. We still have a lot of things that we can do together.

You may choose to sit when it comes to issues of racial inequality and I’m making my peace with that. However, I’d kindly ask you to stop blocking progress. If you sit, sit on the sideline and not in the middle of the path with your complaints and objections.  I don’t mean to be rude or exclusive, but keep your media bias conspiracies to yourself until you can explain to me what makes you an expert on my black experience in America. You haven’t lived my life. You haven’t walked in my shoes. Sigh. My experience is not yours to re-define, re-write, and invalidate. You can keep your statistics. My life experience doesn’t fit perfectly into numbers. That article you read that told you what it’s like to be me: you can keep that, too. I’m sure you’ve been through things in life that make you equally as passionate about other subjects, but on these things just chill out. We’re hurting and part of it is because of people. People like you. People that we respected and genuinely loved who have been unconcerned with our feelings and well-being. 

You may choose to sit when it comes to issues of racial inequality and I’m making my peace with that.

Yes. Yes, I am sensitive to the subject of racial inequalities. While myself, my family, and my friends were victims of some of these systems to varying degrees, you never knew it. It’s why you’ve been so surprised that so many of us have such strong feelings about this topic. I didn’t whine and complain when you unknowingly said or did offensive things. I forgave. When people that looked like you denied me opportunities for the pursuit of happiness, I moved on. We move on more often than you’ve ever realized, which unfortunately means more often than you can give us credit for. When it comes to the area of racial injustices, black Christians collectively have practiced forgiveness and turning the other cheek.  To the best of my ability and as consistently as possible, I have practiced forgiveness. Not for you, but because if I held on to every instance of injustice and wrong doing that I was subjected to on the basis of my race and culture, I wouldn’t be the Tasha you know today. I have Jesus. I know Jesus. He prompts me, too. I am, in fact, waiting on the Lord.

Not for you, but because if I held on to every instance of injustice and wrong doing that I was subjected to on the basis of my race and culture, I wouldn’t be the Tasha you know today.

In this area, black Christians have collectively waited on the Lord. When Europeans collected us off the shores of Africa, we waited on the Lord. When we picked America’s cotton and managed its agriculture, we waited on the Lord. When America beat us and sold us, we waited on the Lord. When we built up America’s infrastructures, we waited on the Lord. When America compromised and determined us to be 3/5th a person, we waited on the Lord. When America counted us as property, we waited on the Lord.  When America denied us education and our inalienable rights, we waited on the Lord. When America enacted their Jim Crow laws, we waited on the Lord. When we fought in American wars only to come back to inequality, we waited on the Lord. When America denied us the right to participate in the election process, we waited on the Lord. When America red lined us out of communities, we waited on the Lord. When America lynched us and falsely imprisoned us, we waited on the Lord. We wait on the Lord. So many of us have been waiting on the Lord! As we pray for systems of oppression to be dismantled, we will wait on the Lord.

We are not asking you to save us, church, we are asking you to wait with us! Wait with me. I know who saves. I know him. The same God that you know, I know him, too. I’m not some whiny little person trying to gain your sympathy waiting around to be coddled and rescued. I pull up my boot straps every day just like you. I get up and I get’er done every day… by the grace of God. But that doesn’t change the fact that there are real issues that people like me encounter that you don’t. We have some legit fears that you may never understand. Calling us dramatic is not step one to understanding.

“I don’t know what you want me to do, Tasha.”

Humble yourself. Pray with me. With us. When issues of injustice arise within our communities, ask questions. The burden is not on you, it is on us. In the same way that abortion is on us. In the same way that ( insert issue here) is on us. We are all the hands and feet of the Lord. If there’s some cancer in your pinky toe, we all have to address the cancer together. You don’t tell your pinky toe to get over it. 

Humble yourself. Pray with me. With us.

If you are offended, OK. Easy steps.  Watch 13th on Netflix, first. Pray to Jesus, second. Pray again, third. Be filled with the spirit and ask questions, fourth. We will answer. If you know this stuff drives you crazy and you just don’t get it, fine. But don’t be out here acting crazy like you ain’t got no sense and no Jesus. Sheesh.

 “I don’t know,” is no longer an option if you are going to engage in this. You don’t have to, but if you are going to, educate yourself. You know what your candidates believe, you know the intricacies of abortion, you understand the supreme court, you understand platforms, you make time for the issues that are very important to you… If this is not one of them, then OK. But if you are going to talk about it and troll Facebook statuses, don’t turn around and be mad that no one wants to hear you out. That’s not how that works…ever… anywhere. Can we be real? That’s wild!  

 All of your black friends are not collectively crazy and angry and far from the Lord on this one. I must make the same assumptions about some of my white friends. I get that there are things that I am missing. When my heart is in the right place, I try and engage in conversations that help me understand what I don’t get. I get that there are black people expressing themselves in crazy and seemingly wild ways. I get that. I get that you are on edge, we all are…

You are my brothers and sisters in Christ, if you don’t seek to understand, who will?

While I appreciate a random Joe Shmoe white guy who gets it… I care more about the Joe Shmoes in Jesus. The ones connected to the God that can move mountains and part the seas. I want to run towards Jesus with you when it comes to issues of inequality. I want you by my side. But some of you are really making it hard, man. We have to do better. You actually have to do better. You don’t have a choice! I can’t sit here and make a home in resentment. I have to do something with my offenses… BECAUSE JESUS. I don’t have a choice but to pray that the Lord gives me understanding and patience… BECAUSE JESUS.

So… until we can meet somewhere in the middle… We can run together for babies in the womb, for the kids in Haiti, and the children of Africa. We can send our money to save the innocent people being trafficked across the globe. We still have a lot of things that we can run together for. I’d really like to run with you on this one, but you’ll have to forgive me as I stop waiting for you.